


wreck my plans (you're my man)

by troubadore



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bickering, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubadore/pseuds/troubadore
Summary: Eventually, they unearth a box that has a bunch of outdated technology in it. Ed pulls out an honest to God VCR machine and whistles. "Holy shit, I didn't know these things still existed. I thought they all, like, spontaneously disintegrated or something when BluRay came along."The stink eye Roy gives him could probably kill a lesser man, but Ed's never taken his bullshit once in his life, and he ain't about to start now. "That was mine, actually."Ed bows his head solemnly. "I married a man who walked the Earth with the dinosaurs."orEd and Roy clean out their attic and find a happy memory
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89
Collections: Roy/Ed Week 2020





	wreck my plans (you're my man)

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a royed week was happening and figured it was as good an excuse as any to write and finish and post some fic !
> 
> this is a fill for the day 1 prompt "modern au"

Ed stands in the middle of the attic, hands on his hips and frowning. 

"And this is what you wanna do with your Saturday?" he asks, looking over to Roy who's currently bent over digging into a box. His gaze lingers on the way those jeans hug his husband's ass nicely. "Really?" 

"It'll be cathartic," Roy says, straightening up, and damn, what a shame. He smirks over at Ed like he knows exactly how his ass looks in those jeans and exactly how Ed was looking at it, and Ed just sticks his tongue out at him. "Clean this out, throw away everything that isn't relevant anymore, and only take with us what we actually need. Or want." 

"Does the new place even have an attic?" Ed wrinkles his nose. 

"No," Roy answers, squatting back over the boxes. "Which is why I want to get rid of as much as we can. There won't be any room for it." 

It makes sense, Ed supposes, but ugh, why do they have to be dedicating one of their rare weekends off together doing  _ this?  _ The move is still two months away; they've got loads of time to throw out their junk. 

He says as much to Roy and adds, "We could be in bed right now, is all I'm saying. A bottle of wine, no clothes, my mouth on your—"

Roy tilts his head back, eyes closed, like Ed's testing his nonexistent saint-level amount of patience and he's praying for strength, and Ed snickers. 

"Ed. Sweetheart," he says. He looks over at Ed with his big, innocent pleading eyes. Ed immediately thinks something's up. "If we get this done now, we'll have all the weekends in the world for you to suck my cock." 

Despite having been going to say it himself, Ed still blushes, biting his lip at the image it conjures up in his mind. Fuck, but he loves being on his knees for this bastard. It's why they got married—tax breaks for sucking dick on the regular? Sign him up. 

Well—and the whole being in love thing. There's that, too. Eugh. 

With a huff at the heated, knowing smirk and eyebrow waggle said bastard gives him, he turns and picks a pile of boxes for himself. "Fine. Be that way. We'll clean out our frigging attic. But you're making dinner tonight." 

"Anything for you," Roy says pleasantly, and Ed can't help but grin. 

"You just said we had to clean first! Jeez, make up your mind, old man—" 

" _ Ed. _ " 

They spend the next couple of hours going through junk, junk, musty clothes, and more junk. Ed says it's not possible for them to have amassed this much crap in the five years they've been married. Roy says he's got a hoarder for a brother, and that Ed is a sucker and pushover for said brother, so is he really surprised he's kept all the shit Al's given him? 

Ed gives him the finger and throws a moth-eaten jacket at his head while the bastard cackles. 

Eventually, they unearth a box that has a bunch of outdated technology in it. Ed pulls out an honest to God VCR machine and whistles. "Holy shit, I didn't know these things still existed. I thought they all, like, spontaneously disintegrated or something when BluRay came along." 

The stink eye Roy gives him could probably kill a lesser man, but Ed's never taken his bullshit once in his life, and he ain't about to start now. "That was mine, actually." 

Ed bows his head solemnly. "I married a man who walked the Earth with the dinosaurs." 

He shouts in offense as Roy shoves him and tackles him to the ground, and they tussle around for a minute before they both dissolve into laughter. Ed is pinned under Roy, whose eyes are bright, face flushed, and Ed can feel his hair falling out of its braid. Roy smirks down at him, victorious, and leans down to kiss him soundly. 

"Who's an ancient, extinct species now?" Roy murmurs against his mouth, and Ed just hums in content. 

They lose several minutes to some hot making out on the floor of their attic. It takes herculean effort for Ed to push Roy away, huffing out a laugh when Roy just keeps chasing his mouth. He lets it happen a few times, then finally gathers his wits enough to put a hand on the bastard's chest to stop him from stealing any more kisses. 

"I thought you wanted to get this done today so we could fuck later," he says, and the dramatic groan he gets in response makes him snicker. 

"I'm rethinking my position on finishing this today," Roy pouts, hands pulling at Ed's clothes. His fingers sneak under his shirt, trailing feather-light against his skin, and Ed shivers at the ticklish sensation. 

He slaps those hands away with great reluctance. "C'mon, old man," he says, pushing himself up from the floor. He turns and offers a hand to Roy. "The sooner we get done with this, the sooner you can get me on my knees." 

Roy takes his hand. "Well. No time to waste, then." 

They're almost done, in actuality. There's maybe one more box after the one with decades-old technology in it, and it's labeled "Decorations" anyway, so they figure it'll be easy enough just to haul to the curb. Which just leaves the aforementioned box of decades-old technology. 

"You think this still works?" Ed asks, examining the VCR player. He sees some tapes in the bottom of the box. "The fuck were you even recording, anyway?" 

Roy takes the VCR from him and grins as he heads for the stairs. "I'll admit I don't quite remember. Guess we'll have to hook it up and see. Grab the tapes, would you?" 

Ed thinks about making a joke about getting old and the subsequent memory loss usually acquainted with it, but he barely remembers what he did last week, much less—he looks at one of the tapes to see if it's dated, and lo, it is— _ seven  _ years ago, Jesus, so he figures he'll be nice and just go with it. 

They take the VCR and the tapes to the living room and Ed watches in amusement as his husband fiddles with getting it hooked up. It seems in working order, but only one real way to find out. 

Ed pulls out one of the tapes, reading the label in Roy's messy scrawl:  _ May 20th.  _ Just the date. His brow furrows as he pushes it into the VCR. "You didn't think to, I don't know, briefly describe what might be on it?" 

Roy taps his chin in thought. "I suppose I thought I'd just...remember." 

"Fat lot of good that did," Ed snorts, but then the video comes to life, and they both pause their bickering to watch. 

The quality is shit, but that might just be the fact that it seems to be very early morning. Roy from the past—because it sure as hell wasn't Ed filming—stalks down the hall towards the kitchen. Ed recognizes their old place, the one before this one, and a small wave of nostalgia washes over him as he watches himself come in to view, leaning against the counter by the coffee maker. 

_ "And here we see the lesser spotted Edward Elric in his natural habitat,"  _ Roy's voice says from behind the camera. Ed-from-the-past turns a bleary-eyed glare on him.

_ "Fuck off, old man."  _

_ "Such hostility in such a tranquil place, _ " Roy's voice murmurs. He keeps a bit of distance between them, though he focuses the lens to bring in a close up of Ed's face.  _ "And yet such beauty, too. Absolutely remarkable."  _

_ "Shut up, _ " Ed mumbles, turning away as the coffee maker finishes. He grabs a mug from the cabinet, having to go up on tiptoe to reach.  _ "It's too early for your bullshit."  _

Ed in the present can't help but snort in agreement. Even now he's as grumpy in the morning as a bridge troll before his first three cups of coffee. Practically useless, Roy will bemoan, but he'll always have the first cup ready as soon as Ed rolls himself out of bed. 

Definitely one of the perks of being married to the man. 

"You're such a dork," Ed says, bumping their shoulders together. He doesn't protest the arm Roy wraps around him, nor how he pulls him close to kiss his head. 

"You love it," Roy murmurs against his temple, and Ed can't even argue it. He does. He really fucking does. 

On screen, Ed and Roy have continued speaking, Ed telling Roy to shut up and Roy narrating the events like a nature documentary. They've moved to the table where Ed sits to inhale the coffee and Roy circles him with the camera. 

Ed hasn't been paying attention to their words until Roy-from-the-past is saying, so fucking softly it's like he's afraid the words might shatter at his feet,  _ "The Edward Elric is also known by another name."  _

At this, Ed-from-the-past has tears in his eyes and is biting his lip, trying not to let them out. Roy is now down on one knee, and there's a ring in his hand that comes into view. _ "The Edward Elric-Mustang."  _

"Holy shit," Ed says, feeling tears brimming in his eyes now. "Holy  _ shit,  _ Roy, you were such a fucking nerd." 

Roy laughs against him, bringing his other arm around Ed to hold him even tighter. Ed wraps his own arms around him in return, because fuck, he's feeling sappy all of a sudden. But he guesses watching your own proposal video might do that to a person. 

_ "You think you're real funny, huh,"  _ Ed-from-the-past says on the screen, and his voice comes out thick. Finally, he can't hold back the smile any longer, and he brings a hand up to reach for Roy. _ "Yes, you bastard, yes, I'll fucking marry you."  _

At this point, Roy-from-the-past has set down the camera, and they're treated to a lovely view of the fridge while their past selves hug and kiss and bask in the overwhelming happiness of knowing they're going to be spending the rest of their lives together. It goes for another minute maybe before one of them picks up the camera and turns it off, and the tape ends. 

Ed turns into Roy's embrace and buries his face in his husband's neck, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent of him. Roy squeezes him and sets his chin on his head, and for a moment they just stand there, enjoying the closeness. 

When Ed pulls back, he looks up to find Roy smiling gently at him, and he presses forward to kiss him. "Love you, old man." 

"Love you too, pipsqueak," Roy says, and Ed only half-heartedly swats at him. 

"Just for that," he says, playing it up and stepping back with a huff, "you're gonna have to wait 'til after dinner for me to suck your cock." 

"Hey, Ed, sweetheart, wait! Let's talk about this—" 

"Nope. After dinner. Get cookin', babe." 

"Ed—" 

"Oh, you see that? That's my desire to get on my knees for you walkin' right out the door with every word out of your mouth. Better shut up before it leaves." 

"If it walks out, so will your chance to ride my face this evening." 

"Wha— Hang on—"

"Mm, no, I think I see it leaving too. Better luck next time, I guess." 

"Hey, get back here, you bastard!" 

Roy laughs, and Ed laughs, and maybe cleaning out the attic wasn't such a bad way to spend a weekend after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/troubadorer) and [tumblr](http://geraltofriviasleftbuttcheek.tumblr.com)


End file.
